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Description

Check my book, please - www.amazon.com/Surreal-Sketche…

In heavens high, where seraphs sing,
There dwells an angel, callow wing,
Who wears upon his visage fair,
A smile that seems devoid of care.
You'd think his gaze, so pure, so bright,
Would banish every mortal plight.
But look again, you'll find it true,
This angel's glance cuts through and through.
He sees the wars, he hears the cries,
The agonies, the last goodbyes,
And yet his face, so calm, so still,
Betrays no sign of woe or ill.
You ask, "What cold celestial art
Would let him shut his feeling heart?"
Oh, ponder this, for you shall find,
Indifference too is in his mind.
He's seen millennia unfold,
Both tales of valor and of wold.
To him, your pain's a fleeting mist,
In cosmic time does not exist.
To some, this thought may comfort bring,
That sorrow's but a passing thing.
Yet others find the notion bleak,
That angels at our struggles peek,
And offer not a helping hand,
But turn their gaze from mortal land.
Thus, ponder well this tale I tell,
Of heaven's indifferent sentinel.
He smiles, yet knows of earthly dread,
Of tears by countless mortals shed.
His gaze, a lesson, harsh but true:
Salvation starts and ends with you.

Description

Check my book, please - www.amazon.com/Surreal-Sketche…

In heavens high, where seraphs sing,
There dwells an angel, callow wing,
Who wears upon his visage fair,
A smile that seems devoid of care.
You'd think his gaze, so pure, so bright,
Would banish every mortal plight.
But look again, you'll find it true,
This angel's glance cuts through and through.
He sees the wars, he hears the cries,
The agonies, the last goodbyes,
And yet his face, so calm, so still,
Betrays no sign of woe or ill.
You ask, "What cold celestial art
Would let him shut his feeling heart?"
Oh, ponder this, for you shall find,
Indifference too is in his mind.
He's seen millennia unfold,
Both tales of valor and of wold.
To him, your pain's a fleeting mist,
In cosmic time does not exist.
To some, this thought may comfort bring,
That sorrow's but a passing thing.
Yet others find the notion bleak,
That angels at our struggles peek,
And offer not a helping hand,
But turn their gaze from mortal land.
Thus, ponder well this tale I tell,
Of heaven's indifferent sentinel.
He smiles, yet knows of earthly dread,
Of tears by countless mortals shed.
His gaze, a lesson, harsh but true:
Salvation starts and ends with you.